1+1=content

Sometimes I am overwhelmed by how happy having 2 kids makes me. Which is probably a good thing, because if I completely hated having 2, I'd be kind of stuck.

I'm not saying that having one child wasn't wonderful. Some people claim they don't feel complete with just one. I never had that. I always felt complete with Andrew. If that had been our family, I would have been happy. I just wanted another to humble Andrew...teach him that the world does not revolve around him.

Now that Lillian is here, I must again say I am sometimes overwhelmed by this family of 4. Not in a bad way...in an emotional, tug-at-your-heart way. My plan to humble Andrew has totally backfired. Instead of teaching him that the world doesn't revolve around him, I have reinforced it. Jeff and I have to dance around like idiots to get a chuckle from Lily. Andrew just walks through the room and she grins and coos.

I watch the two of them together and I melt. I know they will start fighting and bickering and teasing soon. But what they have right now...it will still be underneath all that kid stuff. Andrew and Lily ADORE each other. It is a relationship that has nothing to do with me. And yet it overwhelms me.

It has been stated already many times that Lily is an Andrew groupie. She worships him. But have I mentioned that Andrew is quite enamored with his little sis? He has inherited Jeff's care-taking gene. He will do almost anything to help out Lily (unless he is being particularly 3...then all bets are off). When we took them for a short bike ride, Lily was freaking out. I look into the cart as we're riding, and Andrew is holding her hand and patting it, trying to make her feel better. If she is screaming in the car, Andrew will do anything silly he can think of to make her laugh. If I'm going to put her on the floor for a roll-fest, he eagerly helps me clean up any small toys he's left out. And he still cheers...loudly...every time she rolls over...he's so excited for her.

I'm telling you...I was happy with one. And I'm not saying that those of you with one child are not "complete". I'm just saying...I'm so happy we had Lily. I never knew how much I wanted this little person to fill out our family.

Great imagination...or just plain weird?

Andrew is a clone of his father...at least from the skin out. I'm afraid I've had a very big influence on his personality, however. The latest trait to rear its ugly head...an overactive imagination.

Yesterday night, I went upstairs to put Lily to bed for the night. When I came back downstairs, Andrew was sitting on Jeff's lap...and they were facing a blank wall in our living room. I asked what they were doing, and Jeff answered, looking a little bewildered, "We're watching a tendering movie."

I'll translate. Pretending was orginally interpreted by Andrew to be "Tender" as in, "This is a tender ice cream cone, Mom, not a real one." Now it is "tendering".

So they were watching a pretend movie on our blank wall. Andrew was telling Jeff what it was all about. I believe it had something to do with Aliens and fighting them with a red sword.

-sigh- An active imagination is a great thing...but when you start watching blank walls...has it gone too far?

Yay! Spring!

We are very excited about the warm weather. Andrew wants to be outside all the time. I do to. But with no shade in our yard...AT ALL...how exactly do I keep the infant cool and happy and un-sunburned? I'm still figuring out this 2 kid thing. But isn't Lily ADORABLE in her little sunhat? You don't have to say so...I know so. And she has a bazillion (did you know that "bazillion" is not picked out by spell-check as a non-word? Interesting). I love spring. Hate summer though. I do not like to be hot. And this will be the first summer in my adult life I don't have a neighborhood pool to use. It could get ugly, folks.

Oh what a busy...er...beautiful weekend!

Quick recap of our busy weekend...

Saturday...I don't know what we did Saturday. But the weather was glorious and we were exhausted at the end of the day. My house wasn't cleaner. No projects were completed. But the kids were dirty and we were happy. Oh, I remember. We tried to go bike riding in our new bikes. We spent a TON of money getting all geared up to bike with the kids...and neglected to research baby stuff. See, they don't make helmets small enough for my peanut's head. And helmet's are the law for kids under 12. And when we went online to look up "infant bike helmets", I got a few articles saying you should NEVER bike with a child under 9 months...and probably not frequently with a child under a year. -sigh- Better luck next year, I suppose.

Sunday...our friends Bill and Annie were in town for a wedding. Actually, there were here the whole weekend, but their brother selfishly kept them busy most of the weekend. Damn grooms. ;) So we decided last minute to go to the Philadelphia Zoo. Like my sister seems to have experienced, the zoo was...shall we say...crowded? Philly's zoo is located within the largest city park in the US...and it was a gorgeous day. So the biggest crowd was getting off the freeway and into the parking lots for the zoo. Also, it was autistic kid day at the zoo. I'm not trying to be funny...it actually was. What misery for these poor kids...all these people crushing around them at all the exhibits. Despite these little things, it was a really fun day. Andrew ADORES Bill (and Annie...but mostly Bill), and wanted to hold his hand and show him all the animals. Lily liked smacking Reina in the face...which Reina thought was pretty cool too. And it was great to catch up with friends and enjoy a day out in the sun.

We got home at 3:15...just in time to get ready for a cookout with my playgroup. A daddy-play date. Jeff's favorite. We were all BEAT, but I knew we had to go. I'm a firm believer that if you want to continue to be invited to things, you have to go to a few of them ;) So I dragged my family back out into the sun and we socialized with my friends and their husbands for a few hours. Not entirely enjoyable, since Andrew fell down twice and ripped open his knees, and Lily was literally breaking down (she wouldn't nap at the zoo...so she'd slept a total of 60 minutes the entire day). Poor Jeff. I hope he has more fun at the next daddy-play date.

Nothing like good weather to wear people out! Now we have to get serious about this homeowner thing...like maintaining our property. No time to play, must pull weeds and trim bushes. I'm so over having a yard...and I've only had one for 2 years now. Ugh.

Embracing the "girlie"

Nice bow, Lily

You can't tell real well, but Lily's eyes are just about the same color as that sweater. Beautiful baby blue eyes...courtesy of Daddy. Flecks of tan inside those baby blues? Courtesy of Mommy's baby-poop yellow/brown eyes.

As you may recall, I was a bit hesitant to have a girl. Mainly because I am hardly one myself. But as Lily grows older, I find myself enjoying the "girlie-girl" things more and more.

I find myself purposefully picking out pink things (like bibs, bottles, etc). I opened up a case of hand-me-down clothes from my friend Angie (thanks again, Ang), and clapped with joy at the 3 bags of little girl shoes inside. Little sandals, patten-leather, you name it. Lily has yet to wear any, because I still feel like shoes on a non-mobile child are pointless...just one more thing to fight with during diaper changes. But I love admiring them...so cute. I find myself buying a sundress or little girl romper every time I go to Target or Kohl's. It's like cocaine...I just can't help myself. If I were addicted to cocaine. Luckily for me, my addictions are limited to candy...and apparently sundresses.

And finally, the bows. Lily has a lot of hair. A lot. Little Velcro do-hickies that are made for tiny heads are a joke. I've searched high and low for a little barrette that can clip back Lily's hair. The pigtails are cute, but sometimes you don't want something so severe, you know? So while out to dinner one night, a waitress told me about this little children's boutique here in town that has AWESOME little bows that really hold that baby-fine hair.

So I went. Baby boutiques are frickin' ridiculous. I saw a T-shirt in Andrew's size for $35!!! He would spill ketchup on it the first day and ruin it. I don't know how people spend so much on kid's clothes.

But I bought a $3 bow while there. Two of them, actually. (See pictures above of the white one. She also has a purple one) I LOVE THEM. They are so stinkin' cute in her hair, I almost squeeze her to death every time I put one in. They are easy as pie to put in, and the clip is so strong, it doesn't slip out of her hair. LOVE THEM. They are small enough they don't dwarf her little peanut head. LOVE THEM.

When I told Jeff how much they cost, he laughed and told Lily that she better use them for a long time. That her wedding dress had better match this little white bow.

Funny guy. He knew we'd lose money if we had a girl. Oh, just let me get started...:)

Potty triumph!

Yes, I think I can safely say that Andrew is potty trained. He wears underpants from the time he wakes up until he goes to bed at night. No accidents for over a week now. And just the other day he conquered the elusive #2. We are so excited. So proud. So...amazed. Who is this big kid that suddenly can control his body functions? Where did my baby go? And...THANK GOD!

I have no idea when children accomplish night time potty training. Andrew wakes up dry a few days a week...so I guess it won't be too long. I also guess that wearing underpants at night will require a few things. Like, I won't be able to child-proof lock Andrew into his room anymore. And he will have to wear easy access pjs. And be able and willing to pull down his pants. Maybe when he's 10? (that's Andrew's response to everything these days..."I'll do it when I'm 10, Mom".

Here's another cute Andrew story. He and Jeff were talking about best friends...I don't remember why. I was sitting listening to this heart to heart, and it just about made my heart melt...

Andrew- "Dad, who is your best friend?"

Jeff- "Mommy."

Andrew- long pause "What about me?"

Awwwww.

And Miss Lily is doing quite well also. All this rolling around is really wearing her out...naps are coming more regularly and sometimes get as long as 40 minutes!!! That's a 20 minute improvement! She is loving her cereal and will sit in her high chair socializing for up to a half hour after her meal. She's becoming quite the Mommy's girl (as is appropriate for her age), and even reaches for me now. Love it. It will get old quickly, I'm sure, but right now I love it. Nothing like a baby reaching for you to make you feel important. Lily's pooping has become nice and regular again. She is achieving the baby magic trick that I remember so well from Andrew. What she eats and what she poops look identical...she just adds the stink!

-sigh- I just realized that this post is almost entirely about excriment. -sigh- I am quickly becoming unfit to socialize with John Q Public

When to call 9-1-1

I know I have a few in the medical profession reading this blog. So Jeff and I were faced with this question yesterday...when is it appropriate to call 911?

We were holed up in our house yesterday afternoon, listening to rain that had been falling HARD for the last 12 hours...at least. I was feeding the baby and Jeff was starting to make dinner. Andrew was playing happily by himself in his toy room (aka the dining room for most of our neighborhood's floor plans). When I joined Jeff in the kitchen to help put dinner together, I noticed how quiet it had gotten in the next room. I peek into the toy room. No Andrew. I look to see if he's gotten on the computer. No Andrew. Family room? No Andrew.

Jeff runs upstairs to see what's going on. What happened next is not for the faint at heart.

Andrew was...get this...reading quietly in his bed.

That's right. He'd gone upstairs all by himself, taken some books off his bookshelf, and cuddled up in bed to read. When Jeff asked him if he was feeling okay, Andrew said, "I just wanted to be alone".

We ultimately decided NOT to call 911. Although there was obviously something wrong with our 3 year old...who normally follows us around the house asking a bazillion questions and commenting on a kazillion other observations...we didn't know what the medical professionals could do for us. Oh, and it was raining BUCKETS on our house. (Apparently, this is what a nor'easter is. I've read about them in books, but never really had any idea what is was. BTW...it is now Monday morning...still raining. Although it has stopped pouring for the first time in 24 hours).

It was disturbing, but I'm happy to announce that after being asked 10 times if he felt sick, Andrew bounced back to his normal, social self.

Under appreciated

A few months ago, I wrote a little about my dad on his 60th birthday. Great guy, my dad.

Yesterday was my mom's 59th birthday. Where was her tribute? She is equally as wonderful as my dad...so where is my birthday blog for her?

I did it on purpose...if you'll believe that. It's to make a point. Dad's are the flashy, easy to love, often sung heroes of a family. I think many people find it very easy to think of their fathers fondly (assuming they haven't left their family in the dust or something), where it is very easy for women especially to be extremely critical of their mothers. Not fair. Not fair at all. Mothers are the cornerstones that families are built upon. They aren't flashy or dramatic like the spires and arches, but they are essential. At least, that's my mother.

She has been a mom for 33 years now. She has dedicated her life to her 3 kids and husband. And yet, if you asked her, she would say she did a so-so job. This frustrates me to no end (see how it's easy to be critical of your mother?). My mom has picked apart her mothering, finding the errors and missteps and magnifying them so they obscure her view. What she may not realize is that I would not trade her for any other...missteps and all.

My mother didn't really teach us to cook or sew. I have very few memories of doing big projects with her, like gingerbread houses or painting. I don't remember elaborate birthday parties or lots of gifts. I DO remember lots of hugs and kisses, being told I was beautiful and wonderful over and over and over (despite my protests), and always feeling like we were the most important things in the universe. Which would you prefer?

Mom quietly and unassuming taught me (and still teaches me) the most important things in life. She is gracious to all she meets, always thinking of others and acting honestly and sincerely. This is why she makes friends so easily, and keeps them despite distance and time. She has a hard time saying no because she wants is to make others happy. At the same time, she stands up for what she believes...my mom is definitely not a push-over. She just knows when it's worth a fight and when it's just better to go with the flow...even if she's secretly groaning inside. She has taught me that nice clothes, great makeup, and perfectly coiffed hair is definitely not as important as your actions and words. That no meal is complete unless there is a vegetable and a fruit. That it is a wonderful to dedicate your life to people you love, but no man can rule your universe.

She has made me know to the core of my being that no matter what others think, there is someone in this world that thinks I am special and wonderful. That is the most powerful gift of all, because nothing can defeat you if you know she is there to catch you if you fall.

I know I have under appreciated my mother through my life. Moving away from her was my first lesson in how much I need her. Having children has opened my eyes to how I have overlooked all that she does and did while I was growing up. And seriously, do I even need to list all the things she STILL does to make my life easier? Need I remind you all of my recent move with a 3 week old? I can only hope that all my frantic phone calls ("How do you cook chicken?" or "I just may kill your grandchild today") let her know that I wouldn't want to be in a world that didn't include her.

So thanks, Mom, for all you do and continue to do. I love you and my only wish is that you could know what a great mother you've always been. I only hope I've been paying enough attention so I can do the same for my kids. Love you-

Amazing Andrew, Amazing Lily

I know, I know, no posts for a week and now 2 yesterday and another today. Keep up, people!

Andrew has given me a few gasps the last couple of days. You know, a moment when you gasp and then shake your head in wonder.

He was talking to his Uncle Chad yesterday afternoon (and talking and talking and talking). At one point in the conversation, he told Chad that he has 3 footballs. How many did Chad have? Chad said he only had one. Andrew responds, "Well you need 2 more and you will have the same as me." Enter me...gasp...he can add?

This morning he came up to Jeff after breakfast and said, "My hand is sticky, wipe it off." Jeff says, "How do you ask nicely?" Andrew, "Please. But only the left hand is sticky." Enter mom and dad...gasp...he knows left and right? It was his left hand, and when we said it back to him in amazement, he looked at us like we were retarded and held up the other hand, "Yea, and this is my right hand." I was, like, 9 before I knew my left and right hand. He just amazes me.

Lily amazes me, too. I swear she knows the word dog. If we are sitting in the kitchen eating and I ask her where the dog is, she looks to the couch where Shadow is usually sitting. I swear. I don't know if this is normal or not...I choose to be amazed.

She is also on the move. I mentioned in my last post that she had rolled over to me while I was typing. She just flip flips all over the place. Very purposefully. We've never had this experience before so we are amazed. We still cheer almost every time she does it, even though it's old hat to her now.

And, God, she is so cute. I have ALWAYS said that my favorite time for humans is 6-9 months. And Lily is supporting my theory. It is so fun to watch her discover stuff for the first time. The widening eyes the big grins. She loves dancing, chatting, and being on the go. This girl is so daggone happy as long as we aren't at home. Party girl already. Love her love her love her (can you tell she slept 11 hours last night?)

In response to your helpful comments about crying it out...1 hr 45 minutes???? Of screaming??? It sounds like it worked, but I guess I'm not that committed. The problem is, Lily USUALLY sleeps at least 8 hours between feedings. I'll even hear her wake up and go back to sleep. So I'm not very motivated to go the distance, I guess. Kudos to you strong ones out there.

In response to comments about Soccer starters...I'm not really mad at the coaches. They are teenagers, I don't expect them to understand 3 year olds. I actually feel really sorry for them. I am not really mad at the program directors either...there should be fewer kids and more training for the coaches, but really? 3 year old soccer? You just don't have much to work with. So I was more commenting on the disaster rather than judging the people.

A few Easter pictures

I'm a little behind, but here are some pictures of the kids with their Easter baskets. I'll include some more pictures with future posts. Just wait until you hear about Lily's bows...phew, I'll bet you can't wait!

Take a deep breath and count to ten...

...it's just one of those days.

I am blogging to keep myself from going upstairs and smothering my first born. Seriously.

This morning we trekked all the way to New Jersey to go to see some singer at Pottery Barn Kids with my playgroup. Andrew would not even stay in the store. Wouldn't even play with all the toys while the music group played. Would not sit to eat lunch with our friends. Was just...well...3.

Got home. Lily is down to her last ounce of wakefullness and she is due to eat. I manage to stretch her long enough that I can put Andrew in his room for "quiet rest time" aka "read every book on the shelf and occasionally throw them to see what mom will do". This is one of the first days that I do not put a pull-up on Andrew for nap time. He ALWAYS poops during nap, so I know that the only way I will get him to go in the potty is to NOT put a diaper on him at nap.

I change Lily's diaper and settle down for a nice relaxing nursing session that I hope will be followed by a nap. It has been 2 days since Lily has napped in her crib. So the Napless Wonder is drifting into a milk induced haze...perfect for napping. She's almost there, when...KNOCK KNOCK KICK. I hear Andrew pounding the hell out of his door (we still have him childproofed in so he can't escape). I try and will Lily with my mind to finish nursing so I can lay her down. I am having visions of Andrew trying not to poop his pants, but Mommy just won't come to the room. Oh the guilt. Oh the neglect. Poor poor Andrew. So I decide to try and rush Lily, and lay her down. She immediately begins screaming, because she wasn't quite finished nursing. Nap possibilities are infinitely less likely now. But it's worth it if I spare my firstborn the trauma of being locked in his room, unable to prevent messing his pants.

I rush to Andrew's room, open the door, and say, "Do you have to go potty?"

"No, Mom, but I have to tell you that my best girlfriend is Aunt Sara and my best boy friend is Pepere."

"What? I just destroyed Lily's nap and mealtime for that? From now on, only knock if you have to go potty"

"Oh, then I have to go potty" Andrew slowly slowly slowly creeps to the bathroom. Lily is screaming to the heavens down the hall. He dances a little as he prepares to climb up the stool in front of the toilet. I lose patience and roughly put him up there. He pushes to high heaven to get a small stream out. Then he says "Do I get a Skittle now?"

"You can have one when you get up from your rest"

"Scream scream wail scream" (these are from my irate 3 year old...as well as the baby next door).

I really just want to get the GD Skittles and throw them at Andrew. But I realize he is an egocentric 3 year old...just what he should be. So I run downstairs to retrieve the Skittle, all the while saying, "Take a deep breath and count to 10." I give Andrew one and leave to try and get the Napless Wonder to take that nap.

No can do. The nap opportunity has passed. Now I just have a slightly cranky baby on my hands. Who rolled all the way across the room to squeal at me while I type this blog, I might add. She is really moving. Man. I can't believe she's over here. And so darn cute. Cooing and squealing...thumping those heels into the floor. Dude, she is so cute. My heart is softening. Maybe Andrew's done me a favor. Some fun time with Lily. But it will make 2 days in a row where I have not been alone for 1 minute the entire day. -sigh- Maybe tomorrow I'll get to go to the bathroom without someone watching. ;)

Edited to add: No fun time with Lily. After 3 minutes of cute playing, she melted down into a screaming mess. She is screaming in her crib right now because why should I hold her and have her scream when she can be in her crib doing the same thing? Andrew is throwing books. I need a big chocolate sundae. Or a stiff drink.

My little peanut

Lily had her 6 month check up today! She is 14 lbs 11oz and 26 1/4 inches. She has only gained 6 ounces in the last 2 months!!! As a breastfeeding mother, this instantly strikes fear into my heart. Why isn't she growing? Am I producing enough milk? Is it good enough? Is this why she's been fussy on the breast recently? Is this why she's only pooping every 4th day?

-sigh-

For the record, the doctor is not concerned. Lily is meeting all her milestones, she seems very happy and content, and a "bad" night of sleeping still means 6-8 hour stretches. He said if she drops another percentile block by next appointment, we'll have to worry.

-sigh-

Speaking of not sleeping, the other night Lily woke up after 4 hours...4 hours, people. This from a child that is capable of sleeping 12 hours a night. So I decided it was time to cry it out. The whole method of cry it out basically goes like this:

Baby cries. Mommy wants sleep. Mommy walks into baby's room and pats child on the back. Comforts child. Then leaves without feeding or rocking back to sleep. Baby cries. Mommy waits on edge in the next room waiting for 5 minutes to pass. Enter room again...repeat. Wait 10 minutes this time. And on and on.

So Lily was crying. I waited 10 minutes in the hopes that she would fall back to sleep on her own. No dice. So I walk in and rub her tummy and tell her it's time to go night-night. After 2 seconds, Lily realizes I am not going to pick her up. Oh, I have never heard such decibels coming from such a small child. I quickly leave so as not to further aggravate the beast, and Lily proceeded to cry, scream, gasp for 40 minutes. FORTY MINUTES. When I sent Jeff in there (I really didn't want to feed her), she arched her back and refused to be comforted by him. She was FURIOUS. No tears...she was just MAD. So I went and fed her to calm her down. And she would take a few sucks, then let go, look up at me and scream, and then suckle again. She was MAD. Teach me to just leave her behind in the crib.

So I guess cry-it-out isn't going to work with this one. She worked herself up so much...and she was just so angry. It was very counter-productive. If I'd just left her alone she may have fallen asleep a lot faster. Any suggestions?

Some things about being 3

I have mentioned that I am a firm believer that 3's are better than the 2's. At this house. I partly contribute this to the fact that Andrew was an early and extremely proficient talker...he got through it earlier. I also partly contribute the easy 3's to the fact that Andrew is a laid-back, people pleaser. Always has been and I hope he always will be.

BUT...he is still 3. It's easy to forget, because he's so funny and enjoyable and clever. But he's 3. He seems so mature that you think you can play games with him. But then the instant he doesn't win a hand/kick the ball/score a point, he melts into a ball of tantrum right then and there. Or he will stalk off with his arms folded over his chest. Or he will throw the board game/card game across the room. And there is no success trying to distract him out of it. That is different from the 2s.

Also representing the "Terrible 3's" at this house is the nasty little attitude that Andrew has been trying out lately. Really seeing how far he's allowed to push things. The latest? "Too bad"...as in "No you can't have Easter candy for breakfast"..."Too bad Mom, I'm having it" At this point, my head spins around on my neck, my eyes turn red, and Andrew runs for the hills, realizing he's pushed me a bit too far. Oh wait, that's how it plays out in my head. In reality, Andrew then reaches to help himself to the candy. Arghhhh!

It makes my blood boil to just THINK about him saying in that snotty voice, "Too bad". Which, of course, is the reaction that the 3 year old wants.

Andrew also claims to have no self-control. If he can reach something he's not supposed to have on the counter, he'll reach for it. When I catch him, he says, "Well, you'd better move it where I can't reach it then." What?!?!?!?

Also irritating is the demanding "Prince Andrew" tone of voice. As in "Get me some milk, right now!" or "Go get my coat" or "2 forks, get me 2 forks". What?!?!?!?! It's not so much the demands...he has always been demanding...he's a kid. It's the attitude attached to these requests lately that makes the hair on my head stand up.

-sigh- But in general, Andrew is a phenomenal 3 year old. We went to Fonthill last weekend. What's Fonthill, you ask? A castle with all original furnishings and decorations, with tiles EVERYWHERE in the poured concrete walls. You are forbidden to touch ANYTHING. Andrew didn't touch ANYTHING for the entire hour tour. I was so stinking proud of him. I haven't met another 3 year old with that much self control. He amazes me.

Oh, and I told him the story of the boy who cries wolf yesterday. He told me if I put him in his room for quiet time he was just going to scream. (he is 3, after all) I told him screams make me think something is wrong with him, so he should save them for when there is something wrong...and into the story. I caught Andrew telling his own version to Jeff last night...but it was about a fox and some snakes (why wouldn't you want a fox to eat the snakes?). So cute. And we played school yesterday...Andrew was the teacher...and he was teaching me songs and all about caterpillars...oh lordy...my heart almost burst.

So see? He's a good, fun kid. Just this attitude. Oh, what to do with that attitude?

Soccer starters

**This is a really long post...if you can't make it through, I have posted a few others beneath it***

I am a mother with many faults. I get that. Because of these many faults, there are often times I kick myself throughout the day. Yesterday was one of those moments. Why, God, why didn't I bring my video camera to Soccer Starters?

Memere and Pepere left yesterday. Surprisingly little sadness. I think it was because I was hyping up this damn Soccer Starters.

Soccer starters is for 3-4 year olds. It is put on by the local Athletic Club for a nominal fee. 3-4 year old soccer. Imagine. How could I resist putting my sports-obsessed kid in this? How could I not bring a camera?

Not only is it attempting organized sports from ego-centric, uncoordinated 3 year olds...it starts at 4 pm. For those of you without toddlers/pre-schoolers, 4 pm is right smack in the middle of the witching hours. That time of day that stay-at-home moms watch the second hand on the clock for Dad to come home...lest you kill the child. When they are worn out from the long day, but not worn out enough to nap, hungry for a snack, but not for dinner, bored with their toys, bored with their mother, and just generally cranky. Yes! Let's give this child a ball and ask him to share with others as they trip all over each other.

Andrew was so excited. I think he was envisioning a stadium filled with fans, and a field completely empty except for him, his ball, and a wide open goal. We entered the gym and Andrew meekly looked at all the other children. We were asked to bring our own soccer ball, and so the room was filled with 11 other 3 year olds possessively clutching their new treasure.

They got shirts. They met their coaches...two teenage boys that have NO CLUE what a 3 year old is all about. Here's a little rundown of our first ever "Soccer Starter".

The coaches first order...put all your balls into the goal.
Coaches thinking: In order to warm up muscles we need to set aside the balls for a minute.
3 year old thinking: Excuse me? I've been waiting all week to kick my very own soccer ball. Now I have to put it across the room...touching other people's balls? What if someone else takes my precious ball?
Result: Mass chaos. 3 children run screaming to their parents. One child goes and stands in the goal and refuses to come out. The rest mill about confused. Coaches randomly chase upset children.

Time to warm up! Coaches instruct children to do jumping jacks.
Coaches thinking: Jumping jacks get all the muscles ready!
3 year old thinking: What's a jumping jack?
Result: Mass chaos. Children trying to jump around, smacking each other in the face as they flail their arms.

Time to learn some skills. Coaches show children how to stop ball with their foot. Then they play red light green light. When they say green light, dribble the soccer ball. When they say red light, stop it with your foot.
Coaches thinking: Fun game to let kids run around while practicing soccer skills.
3 year old thinking: Why stop with your foot, when it is much easier to pick it up with your hands? What is dribbling?
Result: Mass chaos. Children are running about wildly, trying desperately to prevent other children from touching their soccer ball.

Time to practice kicking into the goal. Line up. In one long line of 12 children. Kick ball towards goal one at a time, and then when you are done, get at the back of the long line and wait for another turn.
Do I even need to paint a picture of how this went? This is about the time Andrew walked over to me and asked to go home. I couldn't blame him. These coaches were obviously delusional. This wasn't even fun.

Time to practice kicking to a teammate. Line up in two lines and face another child. Kick a ball gently towards that person. That person should stop the ball with his or her foot. Then kick back to their partner.
Coaches thinking: What were they thinking? It took them 10 minutes to get the kids lined up last time...how in the world are they going to get them to face each other?
3 year old thinking: Forget kicking it to that kid. I want to kick it in the goal.
Result: Mass chaos. The minute the coaches set the kids up with a partner, the 3 year olds take the ball and kick it into the goal. The partner without a ball runs screaming to their parent.

Screw it. Let's play a game. (yes, that's right...they decided to play a game). Split the 3 year olds into 2 teams and direct them to work together as a team to kick it into the opposite goal. Yes, that's right. Remember who is on your team, kick the ball in a certain direction,...oh dear God...this is making me sick just remembering it.
Coaches thinking: Dear God, there are only 10 minutes left. Let's just let the kids run around and kick the ball.
3 year old thinking: What? One ball for 12 kids? Share? Teams? Huh?
Result: Mass chaos. Especially for Andrew, because of all the balls they could have chosen to play this insane game, they randomly picked Andrew's. So he had to share HIS ball with 11 other children. Not good. Kids were bumping into each other and falling hard onto the gym floor. Every time a ball was kicked away by someone else a tantrum would ensue.

In a word...this was a disaster. Which was kind of to be expected. I was frustrated with the inexperienced "coaches"...and I could tell they were very frustrated with their players. Andrew was crying as we walked out to the car... until I promised him that he didn't have to bring his own ball next week. Then he perked up. We'll see. We're going one more week to see if the coaches can pull it together and make it fun for the kids. Oh, and so I can get it on video tape.

Happy Easter!

I hope all of you had as delightful an Easter as we did. Nothing is more fun than holidays with a young child. Fun fun fun!

My parents were staying in a hotel with my aunt and uncle. Aunt Mickey was incredibly cool to Andrew because...well, her name is Mickey...like the Mouse. But she is a girl. (so Andrew told me again and again). And Uncle Mark...well, he's like a distorted copy of silly Pepere. Check!

So we had Easter morning to ourselves. Due to the high winds and snow flurries, egg hunt was planned to be inside. Yea spring (note sarcasm). But Mark and Mick wanted to witness and egg hunt, so we decided to do hard boiled eggs outside and plastic eggs inside.

Plastic egg hunt ensued immediately upon awakening. Lily was still asleep (God bless her). Andrew was thrilled to find plastic army men and jelly beans inside his plastic eggs. But nothing topped the big green egg with Chick Hicks (from Cars movie) inside. He has many of the other Cars, but I've never been able to find Chick...enter Memere. Jeff and I were amazed at how easily he found eggs...Easter Bunny needs to be a bit more challenging for this boy. After eggs, Andrew discovered his basket. It wasn't quite as nice as the basket from Grandma a few days ago, but it didn't matter...he had Chick Hicks. And Peeps. Andrew was ecstatic that for ONCE, his request for candy for breakfast was agreed to. Easter rocks!

And a quick rundown of the rest of day.

-after gorging on marshmallow and jelly-bunnies, we discover Nemo/Jack dead. Jeff suggests discussing Resurrection.
-Lily awakens. She has pooped for the first time in 4 days. It is an Easter miracle! And it puts her in a much better mood.
-Easter bunny hides eggs outside too. Even though we had just witnessed how easily Andrew found plastic eggs, Easter bunny doesn't learn and hides the outside eggs even easier. Dumb bunny. Andrew finished egg hunt faster than we can snap a picture.
-The rest of the day played out kind of like Thanksgiving. Pig out. Sit around. Wish it was warmer so you could go out.

R.I.P

Here lies Jack (who was called Nemo until the moment she died).

Jack was a good fish. She lived exactly one day past the 14 day guarantee. She gave me 50 babies to worry over. She made me talk about death with my son. What a swell experience.

Nemo (who was called Jack until the moment the other fish died), shows no signs of sadness at the loss of the Jack (previous known as Nemo). He seems quite content to hog the entire fish tank himself.

Babies (3 are surviving of the estimated 50 we started with), are not looking good. Soon it will be commode-heaven for them as well.

Andrew's reaction? "Oops. Jack ate too many babies. Don't worry, the fish store has lots of other fish we can get. Is Nemo dead yet?"

Sensitive child, isn't he?

Andrew heaven

This week has been a little piece of Andrew heaven. When we told him early this week that Grandma, Grandpa, Great-Grandma, Memere, AND Pepere were going to be here...at the same time...he literally clapped his hands and jumped up and down. And said, "They are coming to Philadelphia...just like when they came to Te-tucky. They love me."

Having all these visitors really is like visiting heaven for Andrew. He adores all his grandparents, and for a few days, there was one everywhere he turned. Talk silly, Pepere. Read me books, Grandma. Cuddle with me, Grandpa. Let me warm up your hands, Great-Grandma. I'm going to tease you, Memere. Ah...it was contentment.

Lily enjoyed it too...to an extent. She is just on the verge of entering the infamous "Mommymommymommymommy" stage that I remember so well from the first time around. We actually had fun teasing her by passing her around. She is just about starting to reach for me. My ego loves that. But it makes me feel bad when people visit. Travel all this way to have a baby reject you? The saving grace is Andrew. At least he will drop me like chopped liver the second grandparents walk in the door.

Next week is going to be so long...-sigh-

No expectations

I am having a hard time. A hard time not comparing my 2 children. I find myself constantly thinking of when Andrew did this, and when did Andrew do that, and oh dear, Lily is better at this. I am officially forbidden from watching the DVD of Andrew at 6 months...it convinced me that Lily has a speech impediment. But parenting your second child is a whole new dilemma. I've come up with an analogy to help explain it to those of my readers with only one child.

See, parenting your first born is like being parachuted into New York City with no maps, no sign posts, no tour guides, and only vague advise from other people who have visited Paris and Rome (cities that are not quite the same as New York City). You are dropped into the city and expected to find nourishment, sites of interest, how to travel through the city. You slowly learn where the best spots to eat are, you maneuver the subway system, and find out what clothes to wear when you walk out the door. After a little while...you have mastered New York City. And you make a little map and guidebook to help you with it. You're feeling good.

Along comes your second born. It is like being parachuted into Los Angeles...and all you have is your map and guidebook for New York City. You feel so accomplished at conquering NYC...surely this guidebook and map will help with Los Angeles. And it is true...to an extent. You have experience making the map and guidebook. But that's it. Even though logic tells you otherwise, you frantically cling to that NYC guidebook and map. You find yourself desperately looking for that subway, but all you find is gridlock traffic. You dress for winter slush only to find sunshine year round. And your map is worthless...the streets have different names and are laid out in a completely different way.

Both cities are wonderful in their own way. Both have positives and negatives. But it is virtually impossible to compare them. It's really not fair to. You just have to enjoy them for their uniqueness. And truly...traveling would be no fun at all if all cities were the same. The adventure is in the discovery.

That is having a second child. Does it matter if Lily rolls over at the same time as Andrew? Do I really want her to meet all her milestones at the same time as him, have the same temperament, do all the same funny things. No. Never. Of course not. Lily is delightfully different, and I love her that much more because of her uniqueness. I didn't have another child to have another Andrew. I wanted someone new...another challenge...another incredible human being to love and get to know.

So I'm sorry Lily. I'm trying my hardest to throw out that Andrew guidebook. I really can't wait to write yours...from scratch.